"Wouldn't you miss me? As mean as y'are sometimes, I'd miss you!"

Dot had been listening to Bette cry for close to an hour in protest when she heard the big news—Mr. Loring was willing to pay $500,000 dollars for the surgery to separate the conjoined twins to make them two separate women; his main motive was to have Bette to himself to marry her even though he would take either of them as his wife; the town church didn't allow more than one wife. Dot felt fulfilled; finally, she thought, I'm breaking free from this cage. Yet Bette was heartbroken with worry and sadness—she loved her sister despite the verbal abuse she had to take from her every day of their lives.

"One of us could die!" she wailed. Dot, who had remained silent during her sister's excessive crying session, glanced over to her sister's head on their body and spoke.

"And one of us will live," she sneered. "And live a full life."

"We're too old, anyway! Our twenties and thirties are gone! We're fifty-four!" Bette cried. "What would be the point? We can't have babies! We can't get married! We're nothin'!"

"Maybe you both will live?" Mr. Loring suggested, croughing down to the floor to look up at the twin's pairs of dark eyes.

"Times have changed," Dot continued, strangely in the same thought pattern as the older gentleman. "Maybe we both'll live and get the chance to live our own lives. You won't have to deal with me anymore, and I won't have to deal with you, Bette. It's for the best, really."

"I'm hurt you'd think of sayin' that," Bette cried, taking a tissue to her wet, flooding eyes and her drippy nose.

"Bette, my darlin'," Mr. Loring said, looking up into her sad, teary brown eyes. "If you were separated, we can, you know, tie the knot. Just you and me. Dot won't be conjoined to you anymore. She'll be your maid of honor. I'll pay for the entire weddin'." He reached up to rest his wrinkled, but smooth hand on Bette's knee, feeling the fine fabric used to make their custom-fitted dress. "Get you in some white satin…Belgian lace…some mighty fine shoes…a veil…a necklace of diamonds…" He slid his hand slightly up the side of her thigh; Dot could feel the sensation and was instantly angry at the show of affection. "A garter…a gold weddin' ring…fine caviar and hors d'oeuvres for our guests…fine white roses in your hand as you come down the aisle of the church—"

"Are you for real?" Dot asked, her hand slapping his hand away from her sister's thigh. "How dare you?"

"How dare I? What do you mean?" he asked, looking up at her slyly. He reached into the breast pocket of his suit coat and pulled out a navy blue velvet box, flipping up the cover to reveal a beautiful engagement ring with a heart-cut pink diamond solitaire set in a thin gold band—Bette, who took in everything he was describing like a sponge, gasped with joy at the luxurious ring he had purchased for her to propose. Dot glanced over and glared at Mr. Loring.

"Charles!" her happier twin gasped.

"God gave me you, Bette, and I have to accept his gift. It's only his will that we be together," Mr. Loring said, staring up into her dark eyes. "Will you marry me?"

She took a moment to think about her response—her sad, morose expression turned to one of happiness and her tears of sorrow and worry turned to ones of joy as she bore a grin and smiled brightly at the older gentleman that had been showering them with gifts for the previous three years and was willing to fund the surgery to separate them into two women.

"Yes! Charles! Yes!" she exclaimed. He grinned and planted a kiss on her cheek, taking the ring out of the box and sliding it gently on the ring finger of her left hand. Bette raised it up slightly and gazed down at the beautiful, sparkling pink diamond on her ring.

"It's beautiful, Charles," she said, her eyes lit up from the surprise proposal.

"I'm glad you like it," Mr. Loring replied, smiling up at his new fiancée as he rubbed the side of her arm. "The weddin' will be nice. You'll make a mighty fine bride, darlin'."

"Oh Charles, you're so romantic," Bette cooed as he wiped her tears away. She took a moment of thought as he answered.

"I would not be funding an operation that would hurt my favorite ladies," Mr. Loring said. "Don't you worry."

Two weeks had passed—Elina had enough.

I don't know how much more I can take, she thought as she looked at him at dinner one evening; they had ordered Chinese food. I don't even know how he's paying for all of our food and stuff.

Jimmy was sitting across the card table from Elina with a glass of whiskey on the table and a box of lo-mien in front of him. He twirled his fork with each bite he took, savoring the sweet noodles as his daughter stared at him—she noticed how utterly catatonic and emotionless his facial expression was. Worse yet, he had not said two words to her since she came home. It was a Friday, and though Elina was glad the school week was done, she did not want to spend yet another weekend preventing her father from drinking himself to death like he had done since Britta died. Luckily, he hadn't had casual sex with local women in those two weeks that passed; him bringing home girls stopped suddenly, which Elina found to be a relief yet very strange. Then again, it wasn't like his behavior was like she always known it to be, especially with his alcoholism. The dining area was silent, and once she saw him pick up his whiskey to down a huge gulp, she cleared her throat slightly and tried to start a conversation with him.

"You know how you asked me what I want to be when I'm older?" she asked. He didn't answer, and poured himself more liquor. Elina looked down at her orange chicken and sighed.

"I want to be a nurse," she said after a moment of awkward silence. "I want to help people, you know? Go to nursing school…get trained…change someone's life…"

The silence was too much to bear. Jimmy was practically ignoring his daughter as he downed another huge gulp of whiskey, feeling it burn his throat as he made a grimace and sighed. Elina could not keep it in anymore, so she concentrated on the glass he drank from and the bottle of Jack Daniels on the table, causing it to smash into a thousand pieces as the shards of glass went everywhere and the strong fluid spilled on the table, Jimmy's pants, and the linoleum floor. He gasped in shock and fear, but was relieved to see that not a single piece of glass got embedded in his deformed hand.

"ANSWER ME!" Elina screeched—Jimmy's dark eyes widened as he saw his daughter stand up from her seat and lean in to get his attention. She needed to have a serious talk with him. No pussy-footing around, no games, no hints; just a straight-up talk.

"I'M TIRED OF THIS! STOP IT!" she continued; she had never been so angry in all her life, and she could tell her father was suddenly afraid. Her voice silenced ever so slightly but was still forceful. "You're killing yourself! Drinking yourself to death like you're some lazy-ass vagrant off the street, wallowing around all day while I'm at school! You don't even have a fucking job! AT SCHOOL! I HATE THAT FUCKING PLACE! I HATE THIS TOWN, DAMN IT!" She felt her blood pressure rise, the fire in her eyes turning red with fury as she stared at her father. "And the sad part is, YOU DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK! Ever since mamma died, you've been a wreck! Look at you! You even look like shit! You're pathetic! It's no fucking wonder they foreclosed the FARM!"

Her voice turned hoarse, but she continued—Jimmy stared up at her and simply decided to take it. He sure was inebriated, but she was right; everything she was screaming about was right. He failed miserably. He screwed up big time. His dark brown eyes stared up, but not at her—he gazed right through her as tears formed in his eyes gradually. Not a blink set them free to flow down his cheeks.

"You had a BEAUTIFUL farm! FIVE FUCKING ACRES! MY CHILDHOOD HOME! ALL TO WASTE! YOU HAD A GOOD LIFE!" Tears formed in her eyes, thinking of her mother as she shut her eyes and continued to hiss hoarsely. "You sold my horse! Dagmar…I loved that horse! YOU FUCKING SOLD HER! JUST TO COME DOWN TO THIS SHITTY TOWN! And, let's not forget, DRINK! DRINK, DRINK, DRINK! THAT'S ALL YOU FUCKING DO!" Now, she started to cry, her face already beet red from expressing her anger.

"Mamma wouldn't want to see you like this!" She sniffled, looking down and taking a breath before continuing her rant—Jimmy kept listening no matter how intimidating or scary he found her to be. "Ever since we came down to this shit hole of a town, you've been bringing girls home." She shook her head, the thought breaking her heart. "Every night, I have to blare my FUCKING STEREO just to not evenHEAR you guys bonking in the room across the hall! Do you even realize how ANNOYING that is? I'm FIFTEEN! It's DISGUSTING! You're literally old as shit and you're bonking twenty and thirty year olds! IT'S DISGUSTING!"

Right then and there, she broke down and sobbed covering her face with her palms. Jimmy looked up at her, still drunk to even know what was going on or to pay attention to the hurtful things she had hissed like a scorpion jabbing its sharp tail in his heart. He did, however, hear what she had to say when it came to events that had affected them both—alright, now he was remembering the hurtful things and feeling disheartened by them. Elina was so tempted to tell him she hated him, but she didn't want to look like that bad of a person in front of him. Jimmy just sat there and frowned, continuing to listen to his daughter as a single, warm, salty tear ran down his cheek slowly.

"I can't take it anymore," she sobbed, her fiery hazel-greens sparkling with sadness at her father. "You need to stop it.PLEASE! Please! Stop…just stop…please…can you? For me? At least?"

Jimmy took a heavy sigh, which told her he was conscious enough to listen to every part of her rant. There was even a sad look in his eyes, and a tear had fallen; he reached one of his deformed hands to his left eye to rub it and wipe away any other tears that remained hidden. Elina faced him—he suddenly remembered a time where he never wanted her to be upset, and how he wanted to always protect his precious little girl. It seemed like those days were nothing but a memory as his alcoholism escalated in order for him to cope with his wife's passing. He saw her approach him slowly, tears running down her beet red face as he noticed white light develop at the hands by her sides.

He relaxed, looking up into her eyes as she laid her hands gently on him; one was projecting healing energy into his mind, the other was positioned where his heart and liver should have been so that way energy could be distributed evenly into both areas that needed it most. She was now calm with her eyes closed, but still fiercely determined to help him as the energy not only refreshed those areas of the body, but made him sober within minutes. Once she took her warm hands off him, Jimmy blinked a few times and sighed, taking a good look up at Elina, who gazed back and sighed before walking away.

"I'm leaving," she said.

"What?"

"You heard me," Elina replied coldly. "I'm leaving."

"Where are you going?" Jimmy asked with worry, on the verge of tears. He didn't want her to be upset anymore; he stood up and tried to take action.

"Maybe my room? Or, a walk outside somewhere? Maybe to far, far away in magic land?" she wondered cynically. "Then again, you wouldn't give two shits. You never have." Hearing this, he approached her and looked straight down into her eyes—the smell of liquor consumed the room as the mess from Elina telekinetically breaking the bottle and glass cup remained at the table.

"That's not true, Elina," he said through gritted teeth. "Don't say that. I love you."

"You don't act like you do, drinking and being a lazy bum," Elina retorted.

She proceeded to walk toward the door of the apartment, but before she could take her fourth step, he grabbed her wrist in his deformed hand, moving closer to prevent her from fulfilling her declaration of leaving. Elina gasped and felt a bit scared—perhaps her healing powers had not worked? Maybe they were backfiring? She struggled to get out of his grip, but he seemed too strong.

"Let me go!"

"Elina, please!" he exclaimed with distress. "You're all I have. Don't leave me!"

"Get your hands off me! Don't touch me!"

Suddenly he flinched—a ball of fire formed in Elina's hand like a torch as he held it up. He looked at her beautiful, ethereal face showing an anxious, perplexed expression. She stared back at him, the fire going out in her hand by her loss of focus, and noticed that same strange look in his eyes again—it were as though he were looking at Britta had she still been alive.

"Let me go," she said tearfully.

"Elina," he said softly. "I don't ever want to let you go."

"Dad, you have to," she replied, holding back her tears. "You need help. I can't give you that help. You need to see someone about your drinking."

"Elina." He loosened his grip on her wrist before letting it go completely, approaching her so that he was close to her; almosttoo close. "I'll make a promise to you. Only to you." He sighed sadly. "I'll never pick up another drink again. I'll get a job. You were right about everything…" He bit his lower lip. "I failed as a father."

"No," Elina said. "Don't say that. You're just…a little sick. You need help. A therapist, a doctor, someone. You can't just make a promise and—"

"Elina," he said, gazing down at her with that same strange gaze in his dark brown eyes. "I love you."

"I know, you probably do deep down, but you're still drunk. I know you are," Elina said; she was in denial, but for all she knew, maybe there was still a chance of him giving her the affection of a father? "You need to rest. I'll make you breakfast in the morning, just please. Go to bed or…or rest on the couch."

"No, Elina," he said, his voice sounding more serious. "I love you."

Without any further words, he leaned down and kissed her soft lips with uninhibited passion—Elina gasped in shock and worry as she felt her father kiss her the way he did, with his tongue gently teasing her lower lip and, the strangest yet, his strong arms snaked around her wasp, small waist as he pulled her against him. In an instant, she pushed him away from her and wiped her lips, her hazel-green eyes filled with horror.

"What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, pulling her eyebrows in to look at him as though he were truly the freak he was known as.

"Elina, I know you're my daughter," he explained. "But…I just can't…I just can't help it."

"Yes, you can!" she shouted. "You're my father! That's just…vile!"

"When your mother died, I lost the world," he said, looking at her with a tear forming in each eye. "Her passing ripped a hole in my heart. You…you were the only one to fill that emptiness. The boys are all doing their own things now, but…you...I think of you everyday. I know I'm drunk all the time, but you just took away my drunkenness a few minutes ago. You're there to put up with me even though I don't intend to cause you pain or worry. You've tried to take care of me when I could've sworn I was losing my mind. I-I'm not crazy. I'm being serious. I love you, Elina."

Elina sighed, looking downward as she felt her father come closer again only to hold her close to him; this time, in the normal way a father would hug his daughter. She returned the hug out of pity—she was fully aware of the effects of her mother's death on him, and she couldn't help but empathize with him. He had turned to alcohol to drown himself with denial and with the hopes of feeling better, but the sorrow and grief was still there. He had not truly gotten over Britta's death, and it broke her heart more than the image of seeing him drink.

The moment she stopped to look up into her father's dark brown eyes, she only imagined what could possibly happen next.

So Jimmy is in love with his daughter—I know, it's a HUGE stretch. However, if you really think about it, it isn't totally out of character because he's a hornball/manwhore on the show, so it's not technically that bad as far as character accuracy goes.

Also, if you've seen Freak Show, you'll see Jimmy, aside from being a hot-head, is an over-sensitive kind of guy. When he lost Britta in an earlier chapter, he just hit rock bottom and never came back up. Maybe there's hope in a future chapter?

On the bright side, you saw some more Bette and Dot! :D YAY!

Anyways, leave Reviews and stuff. Sorry if I disturbed you with my writing. :O